Vivian Arend - High Risk

She settled back, stretching her legs in front of her. “Yeah, well. Looks like neither of us is quite who we used to be.”

He hadn’t been for a long, long time.

Marcus glanced over. There were shadows under her eyes and faint lines at the corners, but the signs of her sheer enthusiasm were also unmistakable. Her hopes of getting back into the world that had been torn from her. He couldn’t destroy that hope. Even though he’d discovered for himself there were some things you never recovered from, that didn’t mean she never could. And as long as there was hope, he would goddamn not let himself become a barrier to her dreams.

He deliberately pushed aside his personal frustrations and reached out with every bit of acting skill he had. “You’ll get there. We’ll train you. Get you back into the swing of it. You’re good, Becki. Good with the team.” Good for me. “Thanks for stepping in when I bailed.”

She nodded. “They were—something positive to focus on.”

“Were they tough days? Not just the filling-in-for-me part.”

She stared at the ceiling, biting her lip. When she turned to face him, the corners of her mouth had turned down. “Nightmares. Since I froze on the wall, I haven’t been sleeping very well.”

His skin crawled, but he kept his response to himself. “The accident?”

Becki sighed. “Yeah, but you don’t need me dumping on you.”

He caught her by the wrist when she stood. “It’s not dumping. Sounds as if you’ve been dealing with fallout from the accident for a while, and maybe the whole wall thing will finally let you move past it.”

“Still don’t need to take it out on you.”

“You want the name of a good shrink here in town?”

She pulled a face. “I’d prefer to dump on you.”

He laughed, then regretted it as his temples throbbed. “I hear you, but they can help.” Not always, but again he kept his opinion to himself. His situation was not hers.

They were both standing now. Marcus forced his feet to remain steady.

Becki folded her arms around her body. “I’ll take you up on your offer if the nightmares get worse. Maybe having mentioned them out loud will be enough to make them go away. I’m going to shower, and you look like you need to crash as well. You going to be okay?”

“I’m fine.”

If he hadn’t felt like a wet rope, he would have insisted on doing more for her. He was a short time away from a crash. Still—“Becki?”

“Yeah?”

A spark of an idea flew, triggered by David’s conversation. “You interested in grabbing some dinner tonight? Taste of Banff is happening in town. We can enjoy a few samples. You can see how the restaurants have changed. A chance to talk—about whatever.”

It was an olive branch, the best he could manage with the anvil resting on his brain.

She smiled. “I’ve got to remember this trick. Shout at a guy, and get offered a dinner date. Awesome.”

“You game?”

“After a nap.” She covered her mouth as she yawned, but he still caught it and the two of them grinned sheepishly at each other when they were done. “Like I said, we’re a matching set of zombies right now.”

“Just what Banff needs. The Zombie Apocalypse. Typical Thursday.” He grabbed his things. “If you want to shower here, go ahead. Pull the gym door shut behind you when you leave.”

Becki nodded. “What time shall I meet you?”

“Can you be ready by six?”

“No problem.”

They stared at each other for a minute, neither of them willing to leave. Neither of them willing to make any further move forward, either.

Marcus twitched. “Zombie is right. I’ll catch you in a few.”

Walking away from her was tough, but the numbness needed to be answered before he totally fell apart. Hopefully after a couple solid hours of sleep he’d be able to figure out what was the next step. What he could do to help her avoid the trap he’d fallen into.

If he could push her to the light, maybe it would make his darkness a little more bearable.

She’d been cold to start, and now that the wind picked up, the moisture in the air soaked her completely. The least pleasurable part of climbing was made all the worse by the fact that he was being an idiot. Just as he’d been for over a month.

“You ready? Sometime today . . . would be great.”

His hesitancy was clear. Probably figured she was going to freak out and give him hell again. “Bastard.”

He sighed heavily. “I heard that.”

“Bastard with Superman hearing. Good for you.” She didn’t care how rude she was being. Maybe if he heard it a few more times he’d stop being one. “Dane, I can’t see a bloody thing. I could be exactly on route, or hanging over a thousand-foot free fall for all I know.”

“You want me to go first?” His instant response was so puppy-dog eager she felt a second’s twinge for being snarky.

Only a second, though. She snapped out, “You couldn’t have said something fifteen minutes ago? Jerk.”

“Yeah, but I’m your jerk, right?” Begging for approval. Stroking her like he longed to have her forgive him and move on. After the weekend they’d spent together she’d had enough. It only highlighted the way he’d been acting over the past weeks.

Something had changed, and she hated what had become of their relationship. And once they got off the bloody mountain, there was no way this was going to continue. Still, humouring him for the moment was the only logical decision. “Yes, Dane, you’re my jerk.”

Because taunting the person holding your safety line? Monumentally stupid.

“Bec? Love you.”

She leaned back, staring up the hillside. What the hell was the matter with him? “Dane?”

All hell broke loose. . . .

She curled into a ball as she waited for her heart to stop pounding. Sweat covered her skin, and her scream of terror echoed in her ears. It was a good thing the dorms were still empty, or she would have had people pounding at her door to see who’d been murdered.

Her brilliant idea of a nap had backfired.

By the time she’d managed to unroll herself, Becki was more pissed off than frightened. The nightmares were becoming worse—having mentioned it to Marcus hadn’t helped at all. If anything, it was more terrifying now than it had been the night before.

If only they didn’t keep changing. Maybe a recurring nightmare she could take, but one that every time made her think something was about to happen, and then it didn’t . . . ?

She’d been able to redirect her dreams before, but these were going to drive her mad.

It took a second shower to clean the stench of the nightmare from her body. She rubbed cream all over herself, got dressed.

Realizing that she now wore her prettiest bra and undies was another kick in the gut. She wasn’t intending to let anyone see her in them. There was no reason to take extra care with her makeup and hair.

No reason other than the fact that concentrating on Marcus and sex was far preferable to panicking about what mysteries remained hidden in her brain.

When he picked her up, she was more tongue-tied than ever. His black jeans and grey sweater made his eyes look darker, the stubble on his chin emphasizing his strong jaw. He stood beside the door and helped her in, his fingers warm against her cold ones.

“You keeping the beard?” she teased.

“Shaver wasn’t charged, and I slept too late to mess with a razor one-handed.” He glanced over her, approval on his face. “You look great.”